


Here beneath my wings (you are safe)

by Maewn



Series: Silent before the Grave [6]
Category: Fable 2 (Video Game), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Storms, brief religion mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewn/pseuds/Maewn
Summary: A young Logan seeks comfort from a thunderstorm.





	Here beneath my wings (you are safe)

Logan stands at his mother’s door, fist raised to knock.

It’s late, he knows, and Mama doesn’t like to be woken late, but there’s a storm and he can’t sleep-

He bites his lip and knocks.

The door opens after a moment and Papa is there, kneeling so he’s at eye level.

“Logan,” he says softly, grey eyes curious, pulling him into a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“Storm,” Logan mumbles into Papa’s nightshirt, hot tears pricking at his eyes. Princes shouldn’t be afraid of storms.

Thunder rumbles outside and Logan flinches.

“It’s alright, my little prince,” Papa says. “The storm can’t hurt you.”

“But it’s loud,” Logan says.

“Yes, it is,” Papa agrees, “but it can’t change what it is.”

“Why not?” Logan asks.

“Well, I suppose that Avo made storms as they are, you’d have to ask Them to consider changing storms,” Papa says.

Logan sniffles, looking up. “How do you do that?”

Papa smiles, clasps Logan’s hands in his own. “Let’s close our eyes.”

Logan closes his eyes. “Now what?”

“Dear Avo, Creator and Maker,” Papa says, voice soft and solemn like the priests that sometimes preach in the market square. “We ask that You tame the storm’s thunder and make quiet the sky, so that little children may sleep peacefully. In Your Great Name, we ask this. Amen.”

“Amen,” Logan echoes and opens his eyes.

“We ask like that,” Papa says, smiling gently. “And you need not be afraid to ask, my prince, for Avo is kind and loving and will always listen to you.”

“But will They make the storms quieter?” Logan asks.

“That is up to Them to decide,” Papa says, “Perhaps They have Their own reason for the loudness of storms.”

Logan sniffles again, rubbing at his eyes. “Can I stay with you and Mama and Father?”

“Of course,” Papa says, ushering him into the warm darkness of the royal suites.

“What’s going on?” Mama asks, voice groggy.

“There’s a storm,” Logan says quietly.

Mama sighs in the darkness, “Come here, my little prince,” she says at last and Logan can hear the soft thump of her hand against the bed.

Logan picks his way through the dark room to crawl in beside his Mama as Papa climbs into bed behind him. On Mama’s other side, Father lifts his head to smile comfortingly at Logan, reaching over Mama’s shoulder to ruffle Logan’s hair.

“Sleep, Logan,” Mama says, tucking her arms around him. Logan can hear her heart beating under his ear. “The storm cannot hurt you here, I promise.”

“Promise?” Logan asks, flinching as another rumble of thunder sounds outside.

“I promise, my little prince,” Mama says, kissing his forehead. “Sleep.”

Logan knows that Mama keeps her promises, and _never_ breaks them. She says the storm won’t hurt him, that he’ll be safe. And safe in that knowledge, that promise, he sleeps.


End file.
